


Flexibility

by PeriPeriwinkle



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Campaign: Amnesty (The Adventure Zone), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Elements, human!Beacon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25031095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeriPeriwinkle/pseuds/PeriPeriwinkle
Summary: Mama lifts a brow at him."You two know each other already?"Duck briefly reconsiders his plan of running into the woods for dear life, but instead he sighs, mumbling a greeting as best as he can."Yeah, hey, Beacon. How's, uh. How's it going.""Youtellme, Duck Newton.I'mnot the one who hasn't reached out intwenty years."
Relationships: Beacon/Duck Newton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Flexibility

**Author's Note:**

> What if Beacon, arguably the best NPC in Amnesty and everyone's beloved cranky talking sword, was just a human? And what if this human had some sort of, well, _complicated_ past with Kepler's resident Chosen One?
> 
> This is a story that no one asked for, but just had to be written. It just did.
> 
> You're all welcome.

Duck and Beacon were never supposed to happen.

Beacon has always been... _something else_. In his youth, Duck saw Beacon constantly when he was out and about doing mundane things like shopping for groceries, maybe out with his friends having fun, even taking a walk while listening to music on his walkman. Duck was almost certain to catch a glimpse of Beacon during these times, and whenever he did, he categorized the man’s unique tells like they were precious little gems that he’d collect and store in a jar: the ever-present frown marrowing his face, the constant look of boredom in his eyes, the slicked back hair that made him look a bit more polished than your average Kepler resident. Duck always thought Beacon had an interesting look to him; the angle of his sharp jaw, the wide and full lips, the big eyes and the chiseled cheekbones. His friends, whenever they were out getting high and a mean vain struck them, would laugh about how Beacon looked like a freak from another world, but Duck thought, deep down, that Beacon looked wild and gorgeous in a most peculiar and exotic way.

Rarely did he hear Beacon talk; the few times he did he felt almost _intimidated_ by the man’s voice, even if he was just saying hello to someone down the street or thanking the cashier for his groceries; the slow draw of his words, the grin that spread across his face, the glint that came over his eye, they were all constants in his speech pattern, almost like Beacon didn’t know how to talk without smiling. It was somewhat unsettling, but it just added up to the mystery that was _Beacon_ , and kindled the curious fire that Duck harbored inside him. But still, he never approached the man, only observing from afar; the only reason Duck knew Beacon’s name at all was because he was relatively _famous_ around a certain crew in Kepler. The man performed at the city’s only nighthouse, with ropes and silks hanging from the ceiling; he’d seen the pamphlets and he’d heard stories of his incredible acrobatic feats, acts fit for Circus de Solei themselves, and people in town wondered why oh _why_ Beacon didn’t just _leave_ Kepler to pursue his career somewhere more profitable.

Duck had never gone to the man’s show, not even once, not even after he turned twenty-one. If anyone asked—which no one did—he’d just brush it off and say it was not his kind of thing, but in reality he was _aching_ to go. However, Beacon’s shows always started around the time Minerva visited him, and he’d learned the hard way to avoid making plans if Minerva was to be in any way involved. It almost felt to Duck that they were predestined to constantly cross paths but never meet.

But life sometimes has a way of having things go their way, and so it is on a drafty autumn night that Beacon and Duck finally, _finally_ meet.

He was walking down a trail in the Monongahela forest, the moonlight the only thing guiding his way. He was trying to quit smoking, so whenever the crave hit him he went out to stretch his legs, no matter the time of the day. The night was cold and the wind was harsh against his face, but Duck appreciated it; it grounded him, somewhat.

Minerva’s appearance was getting more and more erratic as of lately. As he insisted he wanted nothing to do with her, she slowly but surely began to appear less and less. It’s been nearly two weeks since Duck last saw her projection, and he’s relieved. He’s _glad_ , even.

And if he quit smoking only after Minereva suggested he do so that’s just a big, fat coincidence.

He’s walking down a secluded path in the forest when he turns a corner and sees the telltale light of a firepit a few meters ahead, cutting the darkness of the trees. He squints, sees only one person sitting on the fire, and for some reason he keeps going, morbid curiosity and maybe low survival instincts propelling him forward.

Or maybe fate. But Duck doesn’t like considering that option.

When he’s close enough he sees it’s Beacon, frowning as usual as he stares into the fire. He quickly spots Duck, however, and his lips stretch into a lazy smile, his eyes squinting kindly.

“I did not expect company at this place and time,” he says, casually, and Duck shivers, perhaps from more than just the cold winds. “Unable to sleep as well, friend?”

“You could say so,” Duck shrugs, standing awkwardly at the edge of the firepit, and Beacon scooches over to the end of the log, patting the spot he just vacated.

Duck hesitates, but after a second he thinks _what the hell_ , and steps forward to sit next to Beacon. He extends a hand.

“Don’t believe we been properly introduced quite yet. I’m Duck Newton.”

Beacon takes the offered hand and shakes, and _ho boy_ is it _cold_.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, _Duck_ ,” he says, and _oh_ the way he says Duck’s name sends yet another shiver down his spine. “You may call me _Beacon_.”

“Cool name,” Duck says, casually, pulling his hand back and trying not to seem like he’s staring. “I’ve seen you around town, I imagine you’re not from here.”

“I am not indeed,” he says, grinning. “I am from a land far, far away.” Duck snorts, and Beacon turns to look at Duck, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. “Are you trying to suggest I should return to wherever I am from, Duck Newton?”

“What? _Fuck_ , no, I-”

Beacon laughs, and Duck sags his shoulders. “I jest, Duck. Do not concern yourself with it. Your _dear friends_ , however, may not be jesting as much, no?”

Duck sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, so you heard them, huh.”

Beacon hums, looks into the fire. “The people of this town are not as cunning as they like to think they are,” he comments, looking sideways at Duck, and Duck feels himself blush, hoping the night will hide it.

“Yes, well.” He coughs into his fist. “I don’t think you should go back to wherever you came. Kepler would be a lot more boring without you in it.”

Beacon stares at Duck, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the night, and Duck looks intently at the fire. Wonders why he’s said what he said.

“Duck Newton. I don’t believe I’ve seen you in any of my presentations.”

Duck shrugs. “Haven’t had the chance yet. Busy. You know how it is. Seen the pamphlets though, heard you’re pretty incredible with your silks and your ropes and whatnot.”

Beacon hums. “And yet, you flatter me so, without knowing if people exaggerate or not.”

Duck feels the blush burning his cheeks again. “I... guess so? Dunno, don’t want you to not feel welcome in Kepler or anything. I feel like if you came here it must’ve been for a good reason.”

At that Beacon barks a laugh, startling Duck. “Apologies, Duck Newton, it’s just- your way of thinking is so _simple_. But I very much appreciate it.”

“Thank... you?” He says, hesitantly. Beacon grins and gets up from the log, Duck following his lead.

“Perhaps I should return now,” he says. Duck nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. Beacon kicks some dirt onto the firepit and douses the flames, sending the forest into almost complete darkness. “Would you care to accompany me? You have been a most amicable company the past few minutes.”

“Sure,” Duck shrugs, and back the way Duck came they go, once more illuminated only by the moonlight. The way back is silent, but comfortably so, and Duck risks sneaking a peek at Beacon here and there; he looks positively _ethereal_ in this light, and added with the faint grin that still hasn’t left his lips Duck feels a shiver down his spine from something other than the cold of the night.

Once they reach the main road that edges the forest, Beacon makes a left turn towards Amnesty Lodge, and Duck turns right towards the city center.

Before they part ways completely, Duck extends his hand; Beacon takes it, shaking it firmly.

“I’ll see you around,” he says, and Beacon grins, holds Duck’s hand in his for maybe a second too long.

“Yes, I believe I will _see you around_ , Duck,” he smiles. “I hope your cigarette cravings cease its haunting and you are able to get a restful sleep this fine night.”

Duck chuckles. “You’re telling me, man. Hope you have a nice night too,” he says, turning and walking away.

Duck has only taken a handful of steps down the road when it hits him.

He never told Beacon why he was down in the woods this late at night in the first place.

He looks back, frowning, but the man is already gone, the moon the only thing still keeping Duck company.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very short first chapter, but I figured putting it out in the world would be a good incentive for me to actually work on this goddamn thing. I love Beacon, if you couldn't tell, and I love this AU I created for him.
> 
> Hopefully I'll have a bit more action going in the next few chapters and I hope you'll stick around to it :)
> 
> btw in case you want to see how human!Beacon would look like, [look no further](https://i.pinimg.com/474x/af/26/b9/af26b98a46454e48cb82c29b2f3493c0--steve-buscemi-daily-photo.jpg). You're welcome.


End file.
